


Sweet Dreams

by captaindanger



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Mockingjay Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:59:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaindanger/pseuds/captaindanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie remembers how she and Finnick got their bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS. Seriously, don't come crying to me if you spoil yourself.

The door closed on Annie’s room as Peeta walked out. He hadn’t been able to console her; no one had. She pulled the scratchy blanket closer around her shoulders. It was so cold underground.

Annie felt _it_ move in her belly again, like a fish in a bowl. She put her hand on it. Her stomach was beginning to swell. It was almost imperceptible. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to hide it for much longer. But she hadn’t been able to tell Finnick, and he was the one she really needed to tell. If she couldn’t tell him, why bother telling anyone else? She rubbed at it like she could make it disappear.

She laid back on the small bed she and Finnick shared in District 13. It was unusual for the occupants of District 13 to have beds; most had small cots, but Annie and Finnick had been given one after their wedding as a special gift. When Annie asked Finnick why it was given to them, Finnick had blushed and said it was probably a thank you. “A thank you for what?” Annie had asked, her brows scrunching together.

“For the wedding. For being a temporary reliever of stress for the people here. It took everyone’s mind off the war.”

When he explained it, it made sense. Everything Finnick said made sense. But Annie hadn’t been thinking about any of the District 13 citizens on their wedding day. Just Finnick, only Finnick.

She remembered their first dance as a married couple. They danced so close Annie almost stumbled over Finnick’s feet. It was one of the first times since her Games that her brain hadn’t gone all frazzled when she was around a large group of people, and she could just concentrate on Finnick: on his smell, on the shape of his chest, on the way his heart beat. He hadn’t let go even after the song ended, and she was happy to let him hold her for as long as he wanted.

That night, after the festivities had ended, they had gone back to their room. When Annie had opened the door, she saw the bed. It was bigger than the cots, big enough for two people to sleep in. Annie’s heart rate picked up. “Finnick, why is that there?” she had said, panic coloring her voice. She didn’t like interruptions in her usual routine, and she had developed one in 13 that had included dragging her cot over to Finnick’s at night and drifting off to sleep to the sound of his breathing.

“Calm down, Annie, it’s just a present.” Finnick had smoothed down her hair and went to observe the new bed. Seeing him near the bed made her nervous for another reason. She knew well enough what couples did on their wedding nights. Annie swallowed hard.

Finnick had sat down on the bed and beckoned her over. “C’mere, Annie.” The look in his eyes was one she’d seen before, but it was usually restrained. She stayed where she was and twisted her fingers together.

“Annie?” Finnick had asked. He’d stretched an arm out to her.

“Finnick, I- I don’t-“ Annie felt her head starting to fill with clouds like it always did, and she clamped her hands together.

A look of half understanding, half distress crossed Finnick’s face. “Annie, are you tired? Why don’t we just go to sleep?”

Relief coursed through her, and she walked over and sat down next to him on the bed. He’d wrapped his arms around her, and they fell asleep like that, Finnick’s breath tickling her ear.

Every night they had fallen asleep like that, Annie in Finnick’s arms, his breath moving the hair on her neck as it lulled her to sleep. Until one night, Annie was ready, ready to be completely vulnerable for Finnick, and they used the bed for something other than sleeping.

Annie came back to the present, the one without Finnick. Her hand was still stroking her stomach. There was someone knocking on the door. “Come in,” she said. Johanna opened the door and looked at Annie gently, or as gently as Johanna could do anything.

“Hey, babe. Wanna get some food?”

“No,” Annie replied. Johanna sighed. “Will you lie down with me?”

Johanna looked uncomfortable, but relented. She laid herself down on her side next to Annie, and tentatively put her hand on Annie’s belly. _It_ moved in Annie’s stomach again, and Johanna’s face lit up with wonder. “I knew it.”

Annie wiggled closer to Johanna. Jo didn’t smell like Finnick; she smelled like pine needles and sweat and she always seemed ready to combust. But she was warm and Annie was exhausted from crying, so Annie closed her eyes and imagined the hand on her belly and the breath on her hair was Finnick’s and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the ocean.


End file.
